


My Handler

by MelyndaR



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Pre-Avengers (2012)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:52:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4145373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelyndaR/pseuds/MelyndaR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about Clint is that he has a hard job and a big heart, and sometimes that means that Laura gets dragged into things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Handler

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to become a multi-chapter story, but it didn't, I resisted the urge since I have so many other projects going right now. So here's this little exploration into writing Laura!

The thing about Clint was that he was a very persuasive man, and if it's a little farmhouse in the Iowa countryside that he wanted, then that's what he would get. Though technically the buying of that particular place was Fury's doing, Clint was very insistent on the type of house that he wanted, and Laura was more than happy to go along with him. She wasn't blind; she saw how _very_ much being a SHIELD agent cost her new husband, and if this little idealistic slice of normalcy is what he wanted, then she was more than happy to go along with it.

It didn't matter that Clint was only really a _semi_ -permanent resident in their home because he was gone so much on missions. She didn't mind that he had asked her from the very beginning to stay away from the basement - "It's all work-related down there, so I'd just feel better if you didn't." It didn't bother her that some part of their house was always under construction because he liked to constantly have a project going, something that made him think he would always come back and finish it, no matter how harrowing his mission or close to death he came. She didn't let those things get to her because the moment he _did_ walk through that door, this place - their home - made him happy.

And that was why she liked it here.

But another thing about Clint was that he was always taking in strays, whether for a half-hour visit or a lifetime... and Laura? Well, Laura was just as incapable of saying "no."

The first time Clint brought someone from work home with him - only a month into their marriage - it wasn't a huge deal - not by the spectrum that Laura would learn to use in later years, anyway.

Having Clint burst into their living room from the basement and holler "honey, I'm home!" was only half strange. The words weren't; the fact that he'd come in through the basement was. Then she rounded the corner and seen Clint, bloodied and supporting an equally beat up man.

To her credit, she didn't scream - just let out a loud yelp, before Clint said the magic words "he needs medical attention" and the side of Laura that was a nurse kicked in, forcing logic and efficiency to the fore.

She went to the man's other side, taking on part of his weight as she said, "Help me, lay him down on the couch," and demanded, "What about you?"

"Cuts and bruises, mostly it's not our blood," he answered breezily. "But he's got a broken leg, I think, and you were closer than any SHIELD help with just as capable care."

"Seriously?" she yelped before she could think about it, because she was young and much newer at this than her husband. "What were you two doing, anyway?!"

"This is my handler," was all Clint said, giving her the same pleading look he had when they'd discussed the basement that one time. _Please let me keep you safe from this!_

So Laura just nodded and let it go, rolling up her sleeves and getting to work. "Either we take him to a real hospital or you go get every last ounce of whiskey we have in this house because this is going to hurt."

Clint disappeared into the kitchen as Laura caught the pained wince on the face of the man currently staining her new couch with blood. She may not know much about weapons and war, but she knew how to help calm and heal people and make them feel better. So she laid a hand on Clint's handler's arm, promising confidently, "You're going to be alright. I'm a trained nurse; this is what I do."

Well, not _this_ exactly, but it was close enough.

The man grimaced again, offering in a pained voice, "I trust you if Barton does."

"He'd better," Laura replied with a smile that was meant exclusively to calm her sudden patient. "I'm his wife."

The poor man was passed out even without whiskey when Clint came back a moment later.

And that was how she met Phil Coulson. But despite the unusual circumstances of their meeting, they became good friends, came to trust and respect one another in their own right, and Phil became a frequent visitor to their little country farmhouse.


End file.
